


But The Stars Fade Too

by Baamon5evr



Series: Four Women Who Were Jon Snow's Mother [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ashara Dayne is Jon's mother, Ashara-Centric, Brother-Sister Relationships, Character Study, F/M, Family Issues, Gen, Jon Snow is a Stark, Mentions of Forced Abortion, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, N plus A equals J, POV Female Character, Sister-Sister Relationship, There is a Stargaryen but it's not Jon, but fair warning to any rhaegar stans, but it's Ashara's pov and she doesn't like him, it's hardly the focus of the fic, some Rhaegar bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baamon5evr/pseuds/Baamon5evr
Summary: Watching Brandon choke himself to death didn't just kill him, it killed the hope inside of Ashara. She felt her dreams of marrying Ned choking and fading along with Brandon's breath. Her thoughts of growing used to the cold of the North if it meant feeling Ned's warmth burned to ash along with Rickard Stark. Her hopes for herself and her child vanished with the Red Keep and Elia when she sailed away to Dorne. All she had left was survival for herself and her child, whatever cost it wrought.





	1. Separation

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ashara and this is the installment of my series I was most excited for, and yet I like this one the least but oh well, here it is. This is fanfic, so some of the lore has been twisted and some is canon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashara must make hard decisions when it comes to protecting her child, but that's motherhood, isn't it?

**[Ashara](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/74/70/df/7470df9ea0ffe317784b3e11cc446229.jpg) **

**[Alaric](https://hips.hearstapps.com/esquireuk.cdnds.net/17/46/1510676380-oscar-issac-esquire-interview-main.jpg) **

**[Arthur](https://wwwimage-secure.cbsstatic.com/base/files/cast/bca9398c3dd243d3_salvation_cast_santiagocabrera.jpg) **

**[Allyria](http://www.24news.ca/images/obgrabber/2015-10/147c2f4456.jpeg) (grown up)**

(For anyone who wants somewhat of a picture of what the characters look like in my head)

**283 AC**

Ashara stood in the hallways of Starfall, her gaze locked on the Torrentine while worries weighed on her mind. From her perch she had a view of the shore, waves lapping onto the sands. Her father stood on the shore unmoving, staring into the water. Ashara thought he figured he could change the course of the tide with his glare alone. He certainly managed to change everything else, run her life the way he saw fit, but in truth, his contemplative nature belied her own. She did not know what to think or how to feel. Ned had arrived three days ago and presented she and her father with Dawn and said Arthur was dead, died following his prince's orders at the end of Ned's own blade. Ashara hadn't been able to believe that at first but remembered quickly that war was war and a relationship like Ned and Ashara's had no bearing in something like that, in Ned's quest for his sister, it would not stop him from striking Arthur down.

The war had seemed so far away while Ashara was in Starfall. She hadn't wanted to go but Elia had sent her off as soon as she discovered her pregnancy. She had known that Ashara and Ned planned to push for a betrothal from their respective fathers and when Brandon was killed: beautiful, magnetic, electric, impulsive, idiotic Brandon, Elia knew she would not be far behind if anyone found out. Watching Brandon choke himself to death didn't just kill him, it killed the hope inside of Ashara. She felt her dreams of marrying Ned choking and fading along with Brandon's breath. Her thoughts of growing used to the cold of the North if it meant feeling Ned's warmth burned to ash along with Rickard Stark. Her hopes for herself and her child vanished with the Red Keep and Elia when she sailed away to Dorne. All she had left was survival for herself and her child, whatever cost it wrought.

Elia had made her promise that she would come back to her one day. She said everything would be okay and once the mess had passed they would be together again. But Rhaegar had lost the Trident and died (not that Ashara lost any sleep on that). Aerys was dead now too and Elia... Elia had been tortured before she died. She refused to believe Elia killed herself and the children when the Lannister army sacked the city as people were first made to believe. Eventually the truth made its way to her. Elia was raped and murdered after watching her children die. Ashara had felt sick to her stomach, so much so she found herself dry heaving into her chamber pot. Elia had been the sun Ashara, along with so many others, revolved around for so long and now she was gone. Now there was just Ned returning Dawn and informing her that Arthur was dead. On top of that, her eldest brother Alaric had still not returned to Starfall. They were not sure if he lived or not. Suffice to say, Ashara was beyond angered and the accusatory look her father had thrown at her when Ned told them Arthur's fate had only stoked her anger.

Aron Dayne had never been a particularly warm father. Despite the views of most of Dorne, her father had always been more rigid, a result of his long period of time fostering in the Westerlands starting at a young age. When she returned home pregnant, with a Northman's child no less, he had been disgusted and incensed. He first ordered her to drown the babe with moon tea but it was too late for that. Then he tried to force her to undergo a dangerous procedure to cut the babe out of her but Ashara had fiercely fought him on his decision.

She remembered how much that argument had blown up. It started off as a perfectly lovely memory. Allyria was excited for the baby and was already rattling off names.

"If we keep to ancestral names he will be Alaric or Arthur after our brothers. Or Aron after Father."

"No. Not Aron." Ashara protested. The seven-year-old shrugged, nonplussed.

"Not Aron then. Allyrio maybe." She said with an impish smile that forced Ashara to reciprocate it. On her way to Dorne, she had been uncertain how she would be with her sister who was so much younger than her and who she only knew through letters, but they had immediately fallen into one another.

"Why are you so certain it's a boy? Could be a girl and they are certainly not beholden to the letter 'A' as Father has made his children after him. They could be Yelyssa after Mother or Nymeria after the warrior queen."

"Or Ammeric. I like that." Ashara chuckled lightly at the girl's steadfast belief that she had a boy in her belly. Elia had been the same. Thinking of her friend brought her sadness but also roused her. Elia had been supportive of her and sent her away to protect her. She would not waste her friend's efforts.

"If he is a boy, his name will be Jon." Allyria wrinkled her nose at that.

"Why? That's so... common."

"Maybe so but it is a Northern enough name and may give him some closeness to his father. Besides, Elia chose the name. She said it should be in the vein of many other Northern names: strong and simple, succinct."

"I think it's boring but fine. I will still love you Jon, even if you have a boring name. I shall be the best aunt in the world." Allyria declared, kissing Ashara's stomach. Her lips pulled into a smile, but it quickly fled as she caught sight of her father standing in the door flanked by a guard, a look of disdain on his lips.

"Leave us, Allyria." He ordered. Her sister nodded back at their father and curtsied before scurrying from the room, throwing a worried look at her older sister.

"How can I help you, Father?" Ashara asked coolly, walking further into her room towards her bedside dresser. It was populated by much paraphernalia these days. Books mostly and jewelry but her jewelry chest, gifted to her by her mother, also resided there. Her dagger, a gift from Ned, rested on top of the small chest. She grabbed her goblet of water, sure to keep an eye on the men as they walked into her room, leaving the door open.

"You should not let her indulge herself with your shame. You will give her ideas." Aron said. Ashara gave him a flat look.

"What ideas? To love her child? To live her life freely?"

"Her life isn't hers to live freely any more than yours or mine. Our lives exist thanks to our house, our family name."

"And here I was thinking it was a meeting of two genitals that brought about my existence, come to find a banner and some words did. The maesters in Oldtown shall be shocked to hear of this development."

"You are trying to use vulgarity to distract me from my purpose. You always did the same as a child to steer me away from your various wrongdoings and promiscuous behavior. It will not work now."

"You think that's vulgarity? You're too sheltered here on this island then." She replied with amusement, taking another sip of her water. Her father didn't budge. The guard behind him was not so stoic and he eyed her nervously and with some form of shame. It turned Ashara's only recently calmer stomach. She placed a hand over the swell and held her head higher, eyeing her father defiantly.

"You mentioned your purpose. What purpose would that be?" She asked evenly. If she were prone to leniency and thinking the better of people, she would say there was something like remorse in her father's eyes but Ashara had never been one to dig for goodness in someone when they had proven enough times that there was none. She wasn't as forgiving and benevolent a figure as Elia.

"That... mistake you bear in your womb cannot be allowed to know life. It is an affront against our house and my honor."

"Your honor?" Ashara scoffed.

"Don't start. I don't care what Oberyn Martell or any other Dornishman or woman gets up to, my daughter will not bear bastards of Northern blood in my home."

"What's so insane about Ned being a Northman? He follows the Old Gods same as us. The blood of the First Men sings in his veins. I know how important that sort of thing is to you. It seems like something that you would be overjoyed with."

"The man is married. They say the Tully girl is with child." Ashara felt the same jolt she did whenever she was reminded of these facts, something her father loved to do.

"Our child was conceived before he married the Tully girl."

"It matters not. It will remain a bastard unless Catelyn Stark dies in childbirth. And if you stand in front of the Heart Tree and pray for her death, it will matter not even still. The child inside of you cannot be allowed to live. I will not have it be known that my daughter is a whore. Not that the rumors don't already fly." Ashara felt herself standing stock still. She would never show how much his words hurt, not to him or to anyone else who had ever named her a whore.

"What do you plan to do about it, Father? It is too late for moon tea. My child will be born and there is nothing else for it." Aron shook his head in return.

"There is a procedure that can be performed. It is risky and many maesters do not like to perform it--"

"No."

"But I have found one that can and will and his success rate has been higher than most others."

"No."

"It will leave you ill for some time and may leave you unable to have children afterwards--"

"I said no."

"But Allyria can yet prove fertile and if Alaric comes back he will marry as soon as possible. This procedure may seem harsh but it will preserve the honor and integrity of House Dayne and--" Aron stopped talking as Ashara's goblet suddenly went flying towards his head. He stared at her wide-eyed as Ashara seethed.

"Have you lost your head?" Aron asked her incredulously.

"You will not touch me or my babe." She replied, her voice steady and sure.

"You are my daughter, you have no choice in the matter." Ashara's eyes flickered to the guard who gazed between father and daughter uncertainly.

"That's why you've brought your guard? Some big man you are then. Willing to what? Shackle and strap a pregnant woman down and cut her child out of her against her will?" She spat at the guardsman who impossibly looked even more uncomfortable.

"My lady, I--"

"Do not speak to her." Aron ordered.

"Oh, now I am so under your control that you would dictate who speaks to me? You may control every other person in this keep. Every tree and pebble may bend to your heel, but I will not. My child will live! I will make sure of it to spite you if I must, but you will _not_ take them from me. I will go with no guard, no foreign maester shall touch me and you can scream to the high heavens all day long, but I will not get rid of my child." Aron made to step towards Ashara, she grabbed behind her and latched onto her dagger, brandishing it with a practiced hand.

"I will carve both of you open, root to sternum, before you lay a hand on me." Aron looked at her with exasperation more than incredulity.

"I will give you time to rest as the heat has clearly gone to your head and this pregnancy is making you hormonal and unreasonable, but this procedure will go on as planned whether you want it or not." Aron stared Ashara down like his gaze would change her mind. It only made her angrier and she grabbed the first thing she saw and hurtled it at her father and his guard. Both men ducked once more. Ashara kept flinging things after them until they had to crouch and quickly flee the room. Once they were gone, she looked over all she had thrown at them. The broken jewelry chest lay on the floor outside her door. Her mother had given her that chest and she had treasured it for so long, only for it to be destroyed in an instant, in a fit of rage.

She stayed angry for a long time after that. She liked rage better than sadness, liked anger better than melancholy, screaming and throwing things was better than crying and giving up. She made herself scarce on the island. She would disappear completely and avoid her father and the maester he brought until the maester got fed up and left. Only then did Ashara reappear with some frequency around Starfall. After that, she wouldn't eat any food her father gave her for fear he had drugged it and trusted no one in his service.

Finally, after enduring his abuse for too long and hearing him mutter on and on about how he would rid his house of the stain of her bastard the moment he got the chance, she had come up with a quick plan. She would tell her father the babe died so he would not look for him. Her friend and handmaiden Wylla had been the brain behind it.

Ashara began hiding herself away once more. After a time, Wylla told Aron that she went into labor, embellishing details about how far along Ashara had been, and that she had given birth to a full term stillborn girl. She had still been two months away from giving birth when they told that lie. Her son was not the result of she and Ned’s activities in Harrenhal but had occurred when they ran into one another in Sunspear. Ned had been there with Robert Baratheon who was no doubt there for the brothels. Ashara was there visiting her friends. They spent many nights together before Ashara went back to King’s Landing and learned she was pregnant and then Rhaegar ran off with Lyanna and Aerys killed Lord Rickard and Brandon and then, and then, and then. The world kept hurtling at a breakneck pace since then and was not likely to slow any time soon.

Ashara hid her pregnancy well in those two months. She avoided her father and he did not seek her out, thinking she was mourning. She avoided his known spies and anyone who wasn’t Wylla until she gave birth to her son. When she saw he was a boy, just as Allyria, Elia and even Wylla thought, she had wanted to kiss Wylla for that touch of brilliance in giving her father the wrong gender so even if Jon was found out, he would not immediately think the babe hers. Plus, Wylla had recently given birth to a boy so if anyone saw Ashara with him, she could easily say Jon was Wylla’s boy.

Jon was with Wylla now, hidden in the caves of Starfall with her and most likely with Allyria too, who was already prone to disappearing to explore before Jon was born and had always been privy to Ashara’s plans and kept her secrets easily enough despite her young age. She even perpetuated to their father that Jon was indeed a stillborn girl, lamenting her niece who she named Alysanne frequently, complete with tears. Alaric had returned from the war wounded and tired and wholly uncaring that Ashara snuck away to the caves periodically. He never asked what she was doing. He never asked about her pregnancy or her affairs with either of the Stark boys. Instead, he held her tightly and apologized to her for Elia's death as if it was on his head. Ashara wouldn't hear her eldest brother apologize for it. The only ones who should were Lannister and his men and Robert Baratheon, and Rhaegar too. But she wouldn't get apologies from any of them.

Ned had apologized. She had avoided him as much as she could, and her father was certainly fine with that. He didn't want them to have any interaction should another bastard pop up, but it would be bad form not to offer his home to Ned after he returned their house's ancestral blade, even if he had killed a member of said house. Most men would take the sword so they could forever boast of their victory against a warrior as renowned as the Sword of the Morning, but not Ned. Ned and the men that came ashore from his ship took quarters in the keep but Ashara knew some did not come ashore from the boat.

They managed to avoid one another for three days before Ned came knocking at her door. She was surprised to see him standing there when she opened her door, his fist poised to knock on the wood. She quickly stood up straight, looking at him stoically.

"Lord Stark, is there something I can help you with?" She asked, her voice distant.

"I... I hoped I might speak to you in private, my lady." He replied. His voice was not much louder than it had been all those months ago at Harrenhall when she first spoke to him but it had a steely edge that wasn't there before. It was a voice that was battle worn, Ashara was coming to know it well after speaking with Alaric enough times. Even so, she wanted to snap at him that she was not his lady, not anymore but she bit that response back.

"I don't know how appropriate that would be, your being married now and all. People may talk." She retorted instead.

"Aye, they may, which is why I was hoping for a walk in the gardens."

"Is that so?" Ned didn't answer, just stared at her. Ashara wanted to refuse him but those grey eyes of his had some effect on her that she couldn't explain and didn't necessarily like. Maybe this was how Elia felt with Rhaegar, but Ned was not Rhaegar. He was a much better man than that melancholic fool. Still, she did not fight the pull to him. She hesitated for a moment when he offered her his arm before deciding to follow decorum and looped hers through his, leading him towards the gardens. The walk was quiet and Ashara felt some eyes on them. No doubt much of the keep knew their previous dealings with one another. Some might even report her to her father but she ignored the looks and walked down the steps with Ned into the garden. She wouldn't be a prisoner in her own home.

The garden was filled with blooming flowers indigenous to Dorne that were probably foreign to Ned. He observed them with interest as they continued quietly. However, the weirwood tree ensconced in the gardens did catch his attention and make him pause. It was a small weirwood and how it had survived the Andal invasion and the arrival of the Rhoynish was a story lost in retellings and embellishments over time but as a result the Daynes followed the Old Gods and the New and their weirwood held as much value as their sept. There was a smiling face on the tree, red sap falling down the eyes in stark contrast with the smile. He walked towards it and knelt in front of it.

“I haven’t seen a Heart Tree, much less a weirwood since the poisoned great tree in Raventree Hall. They say the Old Gods cannot see in the South thanks to the loss of most of the weirwood trees when the Andals invaded. This war has not been kind to those of the Old Way seeking some refuge in our gods.” Ashara stared after him before kneeling beside him.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be.” She replied simply.

“I haven’t the chance to properly pray for any of my dead. My father, my brother… my sister.” Ashara glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

“She died then?” Ned hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“She was sick.” He replied curtly.

“Your sister for my brother. Some might find that fair.” She said simply. Ned jolted a little but didn’t respond to her barb. They sat silent in front of the tree, Ned praying for his family and Ashara praying for hers before her eyes snapped open at his hand brushing against hers.

“I’m not sure your wife would like that.” She said, snatching her hand away. Ned was silent for a while.

“I hadn’t wanted it. I did not ever plan to marry Catelyn Tully. Brandon was betrothed to her and you were… you were everything I had wanted. The day I went to my father to ask for his permission to marry you, he received Aerys Targaryen’s summons to King’s Landing. I… we needed the Rivermen. The marriage was the only way to get them. Hoster Tully wouldn't have us any other way. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made."

"And yet you made it." Ashara snapped back, some anger filtering into her voice.

"I did and I’m not proud of it to this day. I don’t even know her. I’ve met her once, my wife, and I already have a son living in the world whom I have never met and know nothing about, not even his name. I’ve never wanted anything like that for my children. I’ve always thought I would be close with my own, love my children, protect them, teach them. I don’t know how… I’m being selfish. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.” Ned said, cutting himself off with a tired sigh. Ashara felt discomfort rising in her as she thought of their son whom she was hiding. Would Ned want his son even though he was a bastard? Of course he would, he was Ned. He would claim him. But should she let him? Then again, did she have a choice?

“No, you shouldn’t be telling me this.” She agreed finally.

“Arthur, he died fighting, yes?” She asked after another long silence.

“Nine of us faced three kingsguards. Your brother killed most of my men. Only myself and Howland Reed arrive here in Starfall from that fight.” Ashara nodded in response. At least he went fighting. Though, fighting for Rhaegar’s sake. It’s what her brother would have wanted even if Ashara never approved of his oft times blind devotion to the prince. She thought it ran deeper than friendship on Art’s side but she never asked and now she would never know. She should be concerned how numb she was to all of this but she cried herself all out when she heard about how Elia was tortured and raped, forced to watch her children die. How she, her sister, had screamed and fought and called for help from a man that wasn’t her husband but was probably more likely to save her even if Rhaegar had been alive then. Ashara had exhausted her tears. Maybe it would hit her later on and she’d find herself drowning in them again but for now she pushed it to the side. She had to use her brain here.

Ned had a son with Catelyn Tully, an heir. She did not know the woman but maybe this would help their cause, make the woman less likely to scorn Jon since she did fulfill her duty and give Ned an heir. Or maybe that will not matter to her and she will want Jon cast out of her household into the cold. Maybe bringing anything up to Ned was a mistake and she should just let him go none-the-wiser to Jon’s presence. But she couldn’t hide him forever, she needed a plan to get him away from Starfall and her father. The best thing to have presented itself lately was Ned. Ashara was angry at him, angry at him for a lot of things but she didn’t want her anger to rob her son of his father and get in the way of preserving his safety. Jon was too precious to her to throw his life into flux over any jealousies to do with the Tully girl or feelings she may have about Arthur’s death.

Ned got up after a while and brushed his knees off, intent to leave, but Ashara grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Don’t. I need to tell you something.” Ned looked down on her curiously. Ashara stared up at him, the words on her tongue but unable to come from her mouth. She looked around the garden before pulling herself up.

“Come.” She said, nodding for Ned to follow her as she set a brisk pace from the gardens. Eyes still followed them, but they became less and less as they made their way down the steps of the keep and onto the now deserted beach.

“Ash, where are we going?” Ned asked as they trekked along the sand.

“Just come.” She replied, counting the openings in the stones Starfall was built upon until she came to the correct opening and ventured inside. She glanced back to make sure Ned still followed her and found him right behind her, his face belying his confusion. As they got further into the cave, Ashara could hear Jon’s fussing and babbling along with Allyria’s coos. They walked for a moment more before the cave widened into a small cavern lit up by torches. Wylla was on one side of the cavern crouched over a pot of boiling stew over a small fire. Allyria sat on a fur blanket to the other side of the cavern. Jon was laid on the seven-year-old’s legs looking up at her with wide grey eyes as Allyria played with him.

“My lady. My lord.” Wylla said as she noticed them, curtsying to them with her eyes betraying some of her uncertainty. Allyria looked at her with a smile that quickly dulled when she noticed Ned. The little girl stood up quickly, Jon cradled protectively in her arms. Ashara gave her a reassuring smile as she approached her and took her son from her arms. She walked back towards Ned, her eyes sweeping Jon’s serene features. He wasn’t a very fussy baby. He had a quiet countenance and was mostly content despite the circumstances of his birth. He did not like the sun very much, probably due to spending much of his time alive in this cave. He was smaller than Ashara would like him to be, but he was healthy. Ned stared at her wide-eyed as she stopped in front of him.

“Who— who is…?” He trailed off. Ashara wordlessly placed Jon into Ned’s arms allowing him to study him and see all the parts in him that was Ned, (the grey eyes, the pale skin, the long face) and the parts that were Ashara (the black hair, the chin, the shape of his eyes, the cheekbones). Ned’s breath caught in his throat staring down at their son. Ashara watched him slowly sink to his knees holding Jon in the crook of his arm. He looked like he’d held babes before, perhaps Robert’s bastard girl.

“This is… it’s our…”

“Our son. His name is Jon.” Ashara said finally. Saying the words brought her some semblance of peace. Ned stared at her speechlessly and Ashara would’ve laughed if it was under any other circumstances.

“I was going to tell you.” She said, kneeling down across from him.

“I planned to tell you when you returned to King’s Landing for me after asking your father for my hand. I was going to tell you about my pregnancy as you soon as you came. I could hardly contain myself for joy, waiting for you to come back, waiting to start our life together. But then your father and brother were killed, and I had to flee King’s Landing for fear Aerys would find out you were Jon’s father and kill us or use us to lure you to the capital. I couldn’t let that happen.” Ned nodded his head in understand before looking up at her with bewildered grey eyes.

“I heard whispers around the keep. They said you gave birth to a stillborn girl five months ago.”

“A lie that Wylla, Jon’s nurse, and myself fabricated. I had Jon three months ago in this very cave and this is where he has remained for most of his short life.”

“But why?” Ashara let a wry smile touch her lips.

“Because if my father were to get his hands on him, he would cast him into the sea and be done with the “shame” I have brought upon my family.” Ned looked at her with a horrified and guilty expression.

“My father is not like most other Dornishmen. He puts much stock in titles and blood lineages and names. He would not countenance a Sand among the Daynes in his lifetime. He will never let me keep Jon here. His life would be torment constantly under my father’s baleful gaze and nigh on murderous intentions. I… It is probably selfish of me and I should probably not ask but you must take him with you to the North, to Winterfell.”

“Ashara…”

“I cannot keep him in this cave for the next two decades, not that I believe I could hide him from my father for so long a time. He has the island under near constant guard, I would not be able to leave it no matter how I tried and trust me, I have tried. I want him to be safe. I’ve done as much as I can up to this point, but he isn’t safe with me anymore. I’m trusting you, I’m asking you, please take him with you.” Jon cooed and stretched in Ned’s arms, his grey eyes blinking up at his parents and taking them in curiously. He yawned a little and reached up to grab at Ashara’s hair while burrowing deeper into Ned’s arms. She smiled at the display and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I will.” Ned said suddenly. Ashara looked up at him to see that his eyes were filled with determination but were also glossy.

“I will take him with me but there are things you must know first.” Ashara glanced towards Wylla and Allyria and the two got the message instantly, moving towards the entrance of the cave to leave the pair in privacy. Ned sighed as he moved to sit on the floor, his back against the cave wall. Ashara went to follow him and let a smile ghost on her lips as Ned removed his cloak and laid it out on the ground so she could sit upon it. Ned was quiet for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts as he lightly bounced Jon in his arms.

“Your brother, he is not dead.” Ashara snapped to attention at that.

“What?”

“My men and I did confront Ser Arthur along with Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold at the Tower of Joy and seven of my men were killed along with Whent and Hightower but a midwife came from the Tower and put a stop to the fight under Lyanna’s orders.”

“A midwife?”

“Lyanna was pregnant but birthing fever took her quickly. According to she and Ser Arthur, she wed Rhaegar on the Isle of Faces after discovering her pregnancy. Your brother was protecting his queen and Prince Rhaegar’s only living heir.”

“His heir—”

“My niece. Visenya was what Lyanna said her name was.”

“And Arthur?”

“He has her away from Starfall. He wanted me to say he was dead, though he would not go into detail of why, just that it would help his duty in protecting my niece. I promised Lyanna I would protect her. If Robert finds outs about her—”

“He’ll kill her.” Ashara finished. Her mind was whirring with this new information. She did not know how to feel. Arthur lived but he was still as shackled to Rhaegar as before. Lyanna was dead but her child lived while Elia and her children perished horribly after unknowingly being pushed aside by Rhaegar. It made a lance of bitterness go through her, but she pushed that away. Elia would not countenance her to blame a child for the sins of their parent.

“I don’t know what to do.” Ashara took a deep breath, her mind conjuring up plans and throwing them away just as quickly before speaking.

“Well, the first thing would be changing her name. She cannot remain Visenya.”

“I know. Your brother has said the same, though he argues her name should still have some Targaryen roots. We can hardly name the child Rhaenys or Daenys or Baela. And the implications of naming her Shiera, even if just in my own mind...”

“Alysanne.” Ashara said after a moment.

“It is the name of a Targaryen queen but is also common enough not to raise any suspicions.” Allyria used Alysanne for Ashara's imaginary daughter.

“Alysanne then. Thankfully she takes from her mother’s looks, though her eyes are violet. Arthur wanted to claim her for his own but that will still not ensure her safety, Robert is not likely to believe Lyanna was willingly with any man besides him and some may still speculate that her daughter’s father is Rhaegar.”

“So Lyanna cannot be her mother.”

“No. She is too young to claim Brandon as her father though and no one would believe it was Benjen who fathered her, he hasn’t left Winterfell during the war. And what other Northern woman could Arthur have been involved with, running around after Rhaegar?” Ashara agreed before a spark went off in her head. Allyria told people her lost daughter was named Alysanne.

“But she is of an age with Jon.”

“She is a month younger than him.”

“Close enough though and he is small, one can hardly tell the difference. You say she shares the Northern look, as does he. So, claim them both. Tell people I am the mother of them both and they are twins.” Ned was struck quiet before he fumbled out an answer.

“Your family can dispute that.”

“My father doesn’t even know that Jon yet lives, let alone if I could’ve been pregnant with twins. Allyria has kept my secrets thus far, she will keep this too. Alaric has known nothing about any of this, if I tell him that this is the truth of it, he will have no reason not to believe me. Arthur can hide away in the North with them, protecting them, and if anyone discovers his identity then he is just a brother looking over his niece and nephew for his sister’s sake. A noble endeavor. It can work, Ned. It will keep our son safe and our son’s existence will keep your niece safe.”

“I can't make you do this. I promised Lyanna I'd take care of my niece, that I'd protect her. This isn’t on you. I’ve sullied your honor enough.”

“My honor was already sullied to my father and much of the realm long before I met you, Ned Stark. What does one more bastard upon it matter? And you're not making me do anything, I'm choosing."

"Ash..."

"What other plan did you have to protect her? What else would’ve made any sense besides claiming her as your bastard? Tell me it hasn't crossed your mind at all." Ned had no answer to that. Ashara looked down at Jon cradled in Ned’s arm. He was content to stare up at the ceiling none-the-wiser to the world around him. His grey eyes flicked over to Ashara as she leaned over into his line of vision. She knew he was still too young to smile but she could swear his face lit up, even just a little bit, as he looked up at her. She suddenly felt tears gathering in her eyes. She was going to lose him. No, she was sending him away. It was for the best, it was to protect him but still, she was going to lose him. She felt her chest tightening and her throat contracting as her eyes burned with tears she tried not to let fall.

Gods, what was the matter with her? She hadn’t even wanted to be a mother. It wasn’t for her, she’d always known that. Arthur always complained that she was too wild and free, that she did not know how to apply caution and restraint. King's Landing had taught her better and she grew to understand how Arthur could go from a brash, deathly charming Dornishman to a docile, sullen, quiet servant. She came to understand how Elia could go from a surprisingly lively, bubbly, witty, kind woman to a quiet, subservient, wounded glass doll. Above all else, King's Landing had taught Ashara that she was a fighter, that she was a survivor and of the few traits she passed on to her son that was the one she was most thankful for. He had fought to survive for this long, birthed and shuttered away in this cave for most of his life. She had to believe and hope that he would continue to survive and fight in the North where she could not be with him.

She didn’t know a tear had fallen from her eyes until Ned’s thumb brushed it away. He left his hand there, holding her cheek. She should’ve pushed him away but she was too busy trying to keep herself together.

“You can change your mind.” Ned offered. Ashara shook her head.

"No, I can’t. I don't want to lose Jon. I want him with me always, but I won't put him in danger. He deserves a home, a life and let's be honest, you'll be a better parent than I would've ever dreamed to be."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. I was never meant to be a mother. I never even wanted it. I was too independent for all that and playful and unladylike. My mother died trying to give my father another child after Allyria. Elia almost died having Aegon. Then there are the women who lose their children. How many babes did Princess Loreza and Queen Rhaella bury between them? I lost count. I never wanted to meet my death in the birthing bed any more than I thought I could handle the death of a babe that grew inside of me for months only to come into the world and breathe their last in my arms. No, I was never cut out to be a mother, but I hear that sacrifice is a large part of that. I've always been too selfish for all of that, if I wanted something then I have let nothing stop me. Well, right now I want my son safe. He will be safe with you. Your niece will be safe with you. They look alike now, they will probably only continue to grow that way. Telling people I am her mother protects her as well as him."

"You don't have to protect her. You don't have any obligation to do so."

"I know. But Elia would've." Ashara replied, sadness engulfing her. Ned made an aborted gesture to hug her before remembering himself and stopping. Ashara threw propriety and caution to the wind and threw her arms around his shoulders, embracing him. She felt Ned tense under her arms. A part of her bitterly remembered a time when he melted under her without hesitation, when he blushed and demurred as she brashly went about seducing him, their positions reversed as if he were the innocent maiden and she the charming, dashing lord. Ned held stiff for a minute more before relaxing and wrapping his free arm around her back.

“Thank you. I cannot… I never deserved you.” Ashara shook her head against his shoulder.

“You did. We deserved each other. We would’ve been happy together, I know it.” Ned nodded against her, holding her tighter.

“Aye, we would’ve been happy. If I were not married…”

“Yes. But we shall not make the same mistakes that started this war. Just take care of him for me, Ned. Love him and make sure he knows that he's loved. Tell him about me when he is old enough to understand, the good and the bad. And one day, hopefully, I will see him again."

"I hope so." Ned replied, his voice thick with emotion. They held one another for long moments more, despite the impropriety. The future was so uncertain, and it was easy to hide from it in the other's arms but they would have to face it eventually, no matter how afraid of it they were.


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashara finally gets to see her son again, though not under the circumstances she expected and it isn't as easy as she thought it would be.

**294 AC**

Ashara had often wondered what Winterfell would look like. Sometimes her mind would construct spires of stone, iron and glass before quickly putting that notion away. Ned had always said the North was much more perfunctory and utilitarian than the South. Oft times she would imagine bleak fortresses and half-frozen people. The reality was not completely far off. Winterfell was a dreary, dark place. It was all muted colors and frigid air. There was no snow on the ground, but it still felt like winter, especially considering she had spent her recent years in Essos and only returned to King’s Landing and then Dorne upon her untimely discovery, both areas exhibiting hotter climates.

Ashara had not thought to find herself in Winterfell, much less Westeros any time soon. After Ned had left with Jon, Ashara spent her days haunting the keep and wrestling with whether she made the right decision. Often she would stand at the top of Palestone Sword Tower and watch the rushing waters below, lost in thought. She missed her son, that much was obvious and keeping the secret of Arthur being alive ate at her, especially when she had to watch Alaric and their father mourn his death.

Varys’ arrival to Starfall had been a saving grace. Ashara was not expecting him to present her with a babe he said was Aegon. Ashara had not seen the babe in a long while and his hair had been dyed black, but she could see the bits in the child that was Elia and the ones that was Rhaegar, so she took Varys’ claim for fact. He wanted her to leave with Aegon, take him away to Essos where she would meet Lord Jon Connington. Varys wanted her to fake her death so no one would think to look for her or the prince. Ashara promised Elia that should anything happen to her she would look out for her children, but things were more complicated. There was Jon now and Ashara would not be able to see him if she was dead to the world. Then again she wouldn’t be able to see him anyway since to everyone besides a select few believed her child had died in childbirth. Jon was safe with Ned. Alysanne was safe with Arthur. Someone needed to protect Aegon. He would never be safe in Westeros, not even with his uncles, and there was no one else Ashara trusted to protect him more than herself.

She had been with him for eleven years now, keeping him safe under the guise of Young Griff with Connington’s help. She did not get along with the man. He was pig-headed and infuriating. He loved Rhaegar and wanted to keep his son safe which was the only reason she tolerated him. Ashara thought he was in love with Rhaegar more than anything else and that annoyed her. Ashara was at a loss to why Rhaegar managed to get so many people to fall in love with him: Connington, Elia, Lyanna, Arthur, even that viper Cersei bloody Lannister seemed besotted with him. Ashara didn’t see what they saw in him. All he ever did was think of himself and make decisions that destroyed all of their lives in the end. Connington didn’t see it that way. Their conflicting opinions of Rhaegar was a source of contention between them. They got into fights more times than not and disagreed on how to raise Aegon in almost every single way. She wanted to make sure he grew how Elia would've wanted, he wanted him to grow how Rhaegar would’ve wanted.

With their relationship being what it was, it annoyed her all the more that it was against his warnings that she had been discovered. She had wanted to go into the markets and surrounding area of Volantis. She hadn’t paid attention to gossip and rumors or else she wouldn't have run right into Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon, both of whom recognized her easily enough despite the blonde hair. They had taken her back with them to King’s Landing against her will to present her to the king. Robert had gotten fat and angry in the years after the rebellion. He went on a vicious tirade against her for her perceived loyalty to the Targaryens along with the usual name-calling. ‘Dornish whore’ came up a lot. Ashara thought he could at least try to be more creative than that. Through his ranting, she learned that everyone now knew that Arthur lived and was in Winterfell with her son, and the girl people knew as her daughter. Robert tried to accuse her of plotting with Arthur to do… she wasn’t sure. He didn’t seem to know anything about Aegon but just blindly accused her of treason because of her previous service under House Targaryen. It thus was easy to play off her fake death as a ploy to escape her strict father and her grief at losing her friend to death and her children to status.

Ser Barristan and Lord Varys spoke on her behalf to attest that she was no threat to the throne. What threat could she pose anyway, a single woman with no blood tie to the Iron Throne? She was not even in the same city in Essos where Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen were rumored to reside. It was ultimately Lord Arryn’s words that seemed to sway the king. After some more insults from Robert, he declared her guiltless in any crime and ordered she was to be escorted to Starfall. It galled her that they should treat her like a child to be returned to her father rather than a grown woman of two and thirty with the freedom to make her own choices on where she should like to go but she did not fight it. She could just hear Connington in her head berating her for her stupidity in being caught. However, she would see her brother and sister again soon even if she was not thrilled to see her father, especially with the knowledge that he must know she lied and did not lose her child but rather hid him from everyone.

Starfall was where she learned that Aron had died a mere week before she arrived back to Westeros. It was probably wrong of her but she did not feel sad overmuch. It was more like a dull ache that quickly passed. She decided not to dwell on it at all.

Alaric and Allyria welcomed her back with open arms. They had known she lived and did not hold her knowledge of Arthur against her or anything else it seemed. Seeing them again made the passage of time crash down on her. The last time she saw her little sister she had been a girl of all of seven years. She barely reached Ashara’s hip. Now her sister was eight and ten, she had a woman’s body. Allyria looked more like their mother than Ashara, Arthur or Alaric did. They took more from their father’s side of the family but Allyria might as well have been a carbon copy of their mother. Her hair was a curtain of silky blue-black, her skin a darker olive tone and her purple eyes were just as expressive, curious and mischievous as they had been the last time Ashara saw her. Allyria had been the most excited to see Ashara. They exchanged letters when they could but seeing one another was different. She and Allyria fell right back into the way they were before, her sister attaching herself to Ashara’s hip and wishing to never leave it for longer than an hour or so.

Alaric was older too. He was one and forty now, almost ten years Ashara’s senior. His hair had gone to salt and pepper and there was an undeniable weight he carried around with him wherever he walked. He was like that all the time after he returned from the war. Whatever he saw or did had changed her eldest brother. However, he smiled softly at Ashara when he saw her, his dark blue, almost purple, eyes dancing with delight as he swept her up. She got to meet his son, Edric, who was very shy in the beginning but quickly settled into himself and began peppering her with questions all the time. He could usually be found running around the keep looking for all sorts of adventure. Edric had the look of Daynes of old: pale blonde hair, tanned-skin, dark blue eyes that looked almost purple. His mother’s Westerman lineage no doubt helped those dormant traits present themselves once more. However, despite their marriage being arranged and in spite of being of the lands that made Aron Dayne so strict and dispassionate, Lady Shana of House Crakehall was warm and loving towards her son. Shana and Alaric seemed to care for one another and Allyria liked her so Ashara did not hold her ancestry against her like so many had done to Ashara herself.

Thinking of time and how it had passed quickly brought her son to mind. He was in Winterfell, all the way on the other side of the continent from her. She wondered if he knew who she was or if even now his mother was a nameless, faceless entity to him. He must know who she was if Arthur was still in Winterfell as Robert said he was. She was under no illusions that word wouldn’t eventually get out that she was still alive and as days turned to weeks in Starfall she became more and more restless and anxious over what her next move should be. She already sent a letter to Connington and Aegon reassuring them of her safety and Connington had sent a chastising letter back. She burnt his letter and kept Aegon’s which was full of concern and love for her. It just made her think even more of her son who was closer than he had been to her at any other time since she had to send him away. Would it be wise for her to show up at Winterfell unannounced? What would she even do when she got there? It was still dangerous to bring him with her. If Robert ever found out about Aegon, he would kill her. If she brought Jon to Essos, she would be making her son complicit in treason. Then there is the matter of Alysanne, who was being led to believe that Ashara was her mother. Would she have the strength to play up that show? Would it be best to bring her to Essos so she can grow up with her brother? It was too much for Ashara, it was hurting her head to think about it. She looked up as a knock came at her door and turned to see Alaric there with a tray of food.

“I thought you might be hungry. You did not join us for midday meal. Shana, Ally and Edric missed you.”

“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought for longer than I realized.” Ashara said, moving to stand up but Alaric waved her off as he placed the food in front of her. She noticed he held a letter in his hand but he didn’t hand it to her. She pushed it to back of her mind and nodded her thanks for the food. They traded small talk as she ate her meal. She told him of her encounter with the court at King's Landing and he updated her on developments in the realm. She tried to keep up to date in Essos but only so much was safe to put in a letter. When she had finished her food and half of her wine goblet she turned her attention back to the letter in her brother’s hands. He had been fiddling with it their entire conversation. Her eyes flicked to the broken seal which was momentarily uncovered by his finger and her eye was immediately drawn to the wolf on the grey wax. She felt her heart skip a beat but she was sure to keep her face steady and betray nothing.

“You’ve been twisting that letter around for twenty minutes now. Are you going to tell me what it’s about?” Alaric looked down at the parchment in his hand and was quietly contemplative for a moment before nodding to himself and looking up at her.

"It’s from Lord Eddard. He has made an offer to host our family in Winterfell with the intention of his bastard children meeting their mother.” Ashara sat back in her chair.

“And does he say what his wife might think of that?” Alaric shrugged in return.

“The letter is signed from Lord and Lady Stark. She must know something of it. Your son, he—”

“And my daughter. If we are to go to the North, pretenses must be kept.”

“Your children, they must know that you are alive. The risk is not what it was when you had to send them off with Ned and Art.” Ashara snorted a little in return.

“Tell that to King Robert. He was ready to kill me seemingly for nothing more than just knowing the Targaryens. But you are right, things have calmed significantly. Father is gone and Jon and Alysanne are older. Ned must be more settled into his marriage that it should not be as much of a scandal for me to visit. Maybe it is time to go North.” She mused to herself.

Thus, after packing up enough furs and warm clothes to seem obscene she, Alaric, Allyria and Edric made their way on a ship towards White Harbor and rode down the rest of the way.

Smallfolk stared at them as they passed on their horses with carts of goods to offer Ned's household. They were bundled up in fur-lined cloaks and coats, much heavier than anything else the Northerners were wearing. The cold seemed to be in their blood like the heat was for Ashara. She was sure their appearance also drew the eye. They were darker skinned than everyone else they passed. Northerners leaned on the pale side while the blood of the Rhoynish ran deep in Dorne. Ned had been an oddity among his siblings, his skin warmer and with more color due to his time in the Vale compared to Brandon and Lyanna who grew up in the North. Still, it must be rare to see a retinue of Dornishmen riding into Winterfell. It distantly occurred to her that they might figure out quickly why they were there and who they were but it made no matter to Ashara. People had been talking about her behind her back for years, what was a few hundred more whispers in the face of what was to come? She was about to see her son again. After years of imagining him, of dreaming of him, of missing him like a limb, she was going to see him again. She had been living a mummery for years now, going through life as ‘Septa Lemore’. Before that, she had to play the role of grieving almost-mother. Even now she was not free from playing roles. She would not just see her son but also the girl she had to pretend was her daughter. She worried that she would see so much of Lyanna Stark in the girl she named Alysanne that she would not be able to play that part. If she could not, not only was the princess in danger but so was her son and Ned. She had to be strong enough to keep the farce up. She managed with Aegon, she could manage with this.

The gates to the keep were open when their group arrived and they rode through without hesitation. She was right. The keep was a fortress more than anything else. It was even larger than Starfall, larger than the Red Keep. It towered over Winter Town from a distance but upclose it’s sheer size was even more impressive. It was as grey and imposing as Ned described. It wasn’t as ostentatious as the sights she’d seen in Essos or even places in Westeros and the Free Cities like the Starry Sept in Oldtown or the Titan of Bravos but there was a beauty and wonder to it. Snow didn’t reside on the ground but there was white powder on the top of some of the towers and walls of the keep.

They made their way to the courtyard with the direction of one of Ned’s men and soon enough they were faced with Ned’s family. Ashara’s eyes swept over the line of people and her eyes immediately found Ned’s. Her lungs constricted and breathing became more difficult upon seeing him. It had been so long. He looked a lot the same, hell he even kept his hair in the same fashion as he always had. He had never been the most handsome man in a room but he still made her feel so… real.

Her eyes snapped away from him before she had a chance to read whatever was in his eyes upon seeing her again and she took in the woman who had her arms wrapped around Ned’s arm tightly, possessively Ashara supposed. From the red hair and blue eyes she could tell easily enough that she must be Catelyn Tully… Catelyn Stark, his wife. She looked somewhat disdainfully over the group, her eyes studying them each. They lingered over Allyria for a moment before moving on. Ashara realized she was looking for her. She found her soon enough, the only women in the party being herself and her sister. She held the woman’s gaze, curiosity filling her more than anything else.

Hatred is not what she felt for Catelyn Stark. Catelyn had lost the same thing she lost: the man she was going to marry, even if that seemed to get muddled between the two women and the Stark brothers. Ashara could appreciate that Catelyn may feel that she had something out for her due to her involvement with Ned and how greatly embellished her involvement with Brandon was by women of court who liked to whispers rumors and lies about Ashara to anyone who would listen. She and Brandon had never been anything past flirtation and she had never been particularly sad about that. She knew Brandon was never going to be a particularly faithful husband to anyone and Ashara had never had an inclination to be involved with a man like him, it was just asking for trouble. He had been a passing fancy and a friend. Despite his loose ways, he actually seemed content to marry Catelyn when presented with the prospect by his father. He had said they got along at any rate. But Brandon was gone now and Catelyn was married to Ned and not Brandon. Even still, she did not hate Catelyn Stark. The way the woman stared at her made it clear she did not feel the same way about her. Well, there was nothing for it. Ashara wasn’t here for her or even for Ned, she was here for her son.

Alaric dismounted his horse first and helped Allyria down. Ashara made to get off her horse herself when a pair of hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her down. She tensed a little and turned to the man as her feet touched the ground. She paused when she saw it was Arthur standing before her. There was a tense moment where all they did was stare at one another. He had grown out his hair since she last saw him and so it was now down to his shoulders in inky, black curls. He had also grown facial hair. His purple eyes held an air of tiredness to them, much like Alaric’s did. Ashara felt some pain at her brothers’ countenance. Distantly, she wondered if it was their father’s death that did this to them but even though he was more amicable to the boys, it was only just barely. It was the war. It must be. It hung over everything in Ashara’s life like a storm cloud that left everyone in suspense, refusing to let the rain inside burst free.

“Sister.” He said politely, bowing before her. Ashara stared at him for a second more before she punched his arm for the gesture. He knew she hated when he acted formerly with her as if they did not grow up together, run through the Water Gardens in their smallclothes together, sleep in the same bed together. Ashara was sure she heard several snorts of laughter from the line of people as well as a scandalized gasp and a noise of indignation. He looked at her with disbelief and made like to retaliate but Alaric quickly spoke.

“Not in public please, you two.” Their older brother warned in a long-suffering tone as Allyria and Edric looked at them with amusement. Ashara huffed but leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek.

“I’m happy to see you.” She mumbled in his ear.

“And I, you. Come meet your son.” Arthur escorted her over to the Stark family lined up in the yard. The Daynes were quick to bow and curtsey to the Stark family.

“Lord Stark, I thank you and your family for being kind and gracious enough to host mine in your home.” Alaric said as they rose up to stand straight again.

“Of course, Lord Dayne. I think your visit has been long overdue.”

“I agree. May I present my son and heir, Edric, as well as my youngest sister Allyria and you already know Ashara.” Ned nodded towards Edric who looked up at him shyly and kissed the back of Allyria’s hand. He paused as he reached Ashara. They both knew what propriety dictated but their relationship and it’s result already went beyond propriety. Ashara felt like a thousand eyes were digging into her, not least of all Catelyn Stark’s. She took over the moment of indecision for Ned and curtsied before him. Ashara did not let herself feel hurt at the flash of relief on his face before she watched him bow in return to her and then retreat back to his wife’s side.

“I hope you don’t mind, Lord Dayne, but I thought it best to have bread and salt presented as soon as possible.”

“Your foresight is appreciated, Lord Stark, however unnecessary it may be. Rest assured none of us here believe you mean to do us harm at dinner but all the same, we shall partake the bread and salt now as it is proffered to us.” A servant came forward with a plate bearing the bread and salt. Ashara was barely paying attention at this point. Her eyes roamed the line of people anxiously, but none seemed to be her son or even Lyanna’s daughter. One girl gave her pause but she was much too young, more Edric's age. Ashara’s foot tapped impatiently as Ned and Alaric exchanged more pleasantries between them. Arthur shot her a look and she shot it right back at him, prompting him to roll his eyes. Some distant part of her felt amusement at their antics. They were in their thirties and hadn’t seen each other for more than a decade but just like with Allyria, she fell right back into the way they were. She supposed it was just the way things went with siblings. There existed an understanding that couldn’t always be explained. Still though, this was taking too long.

“I’m sure you both can talk about the kingdom’s taxes to your heart’s content later on. I do believe that there are introductions that should take precedence, no?” Ashara interrupted, annoyance filtering into her voice. Alaric shot her an unimpressed look. He knew better than most Ashara was never one for playing the perfect lady, the seen-but-not-heard type. She had always been overt and loud, drawing attention to herself. She looked away from Alaric and shot Ned a withering look full of implication for his obvious attempt at stalling the inevitable. He had the decency to look at least somewhat guilty at being caught out by her before nodding in reply.

“Of course. We can always pick this conversation up at a later time. I thus have the honor to present my wife, Lady Catelyn Stark along with our children: Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa and Robb.” Ashara gave Catelyn another once over. She was a beautiful woman. Her Tully red hair was vibrant and stuck out amongst the dark and grey of most of the other people of Winterfell. Glancing down the line of children, they looked a healthy enough mix of their parents. Most of the children had dark auburn hair in comparison to their mother’s vivid red except the elder girl whose hair was a shade more vivid than even her mother’s was and the younger girl whose hair was dark brown like Ned’s. None of them were her son though. She went back to staring at Ned.

“Beyond that, I present to you my natural son and daughter, Jon and Alysanne.” Ned finally said. He stepped to the side to reveal two young children who shuffled forward sheepishly. They bowed and curtsied respectfully before glancing up at Ashara. She felt some breath get knocked out of her to see them. Staring at Alysanne was like staring at a ghost. She looked so much like Lyanna it hurt to look at her but the similarities with Ned too were undeniable so it was not hard to believe people thought she was his child. Her purple eyes were enough like Ashara’s to throw people off the scent of Rhaegar and her more pointed chin was much like Ashara’s was too. She was pale skinned like most Northerners with curly black hair that was somewhat of a bird’s nest atop her head.

Then there was her son. Ashara’s heart thud hard in her chest staring down at him. He stared back at her with dark grey eyes that were almond shaped like hers rather than rounded like Alysanne’s. His curly black hair hung in ringlets down to his shoulders like Arthur’s. In truth, despite the Northern coloring she could see a lot of Alaric and Arthur in him: the hair color and the jawline and cheekbones were all Dayne. He stared at her uncertainly until Ashara felt a wide smile break across her face and she lunged forward and pulled Jon into a hug. He let out a surprised breath and tensed at the sudden embrace but after a moment he relaxed into it. His arms wrapped around her neck and he returned the hug. He smelled of leather and weirwood sap. Ashara turned her nose into his curls, breathing in the scent of her son. She wished to let herself be lulled into a sense of security like this. She wished to just forget herself here, take her son away with her where she could be alone with him, but she had been an accomplished enough actress for eleven years now. Septa Lemore knew her role and Ashara Dayne, mother of bastard Alysanne Snow, must know hers too. She let her son go and turned her attention to the girl beside him. She looked at Ashara with a hesitant and timid gaze.

“Mother?” She questioned cautiously. Ashara gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, child. I am your mother.” Alysanne held back for a moment before throwing herself at Ashara with abandon, much like Ashara had done to Jon. Ashara didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around the girl. It would be noticed if she did. The girl’s shoulders shook with barely repressed sobs. Ashara felt pity rise in her. The girl’s parents were dead, through no fault of her own. Ned took her as a daughter but in another life she would’ve been a princess, not a bastard. Still, Ashara could only imagine the girl plied herself with stories of a mother who looked like Ashara and not Lyanna just as much as Jon mayhaps did. If she thought of it that way and not that she was covering up for Rhaegar’s mistakes, that made the act seem easier to portray. She knelt and hugged Alysanne tighter, pulling Jon into the embrace with her other arm. She pressed a kiss to both child’s forehead and held them close to her until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed them one more time before standing up straight and fixing her dress. Allyria came up to her side and discretely swiped a finger across Ashara’s cheek. She hadn’t even noticed a tear fell pass her eyes. She took a deep breath, pulling on some sense of propriety.

“You both look well cared for.”

“We are, Lady Ashara. Lord Stark takes excellent care with us.” Her son said as Alysanne wiped her tears beside him and nodded in agreement.

“Please, as long as I am here and beyond that you should call me Mother. If you want to, of course.”

“Okay, Mother.” Alysanne said, smiling up at her. Her son looked down without answering. Ashara felt her heart flip uncomfortably at it.

“Now that introductions have been made, perhaps it is time we show you the rooms you will be staying in, hmm?” Lady Catelyn suggested, breaking through the moment. She had an interested look in her eye as she looked between the three but Ashara filed that away for later.

“Yes, I think that would be best. Thank you, My lady.” Alaric answered. Alysanne had a frightened look on her face as the group began to move inside.

“Don’t worry, we shall talk soon. I promise.” She said. The little girl nodded enthusiastically. Jon didn’t answer her. Ashara shot him another concerned look and ran her fingers through his curls to gain his attention. He glanced up at her through his lashes and nodded in acquiescence.

“Come Ash.” Alaric called, standing a little way away. Ashara held her son’s gaze but found it was kept carefully blank and unreadable. She decided the best thing would just be to follow after her brother.

~*~*~

Her son was avoiding her.

Ashara thought she might have been overthinking it in the beginning. Maybe it was just that she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible but he saw it as her smothering him. But no, he was avoiding her. He didn’t speak a lot when she tried to talk to him. He was closed off and awkward around her. He barely ever looked her in the eye. He hugged her when she hugged him, accepted the kisses she pressed to his forehead but he would barely talk to her and he wouldn’t be alone with her. Whenever she was with him Alysanne was there. She didn’t mind that too much. She learned quickly that they were very close. They believed themselves to be twins after-all and were bastards besides, so they probably stuck together for comfort, companionship and comradery. That wasn’t to say they weren’t close to Ned’s trueborn children. They fell right in with the eldest boy, Robb, always playing in the training yards with him and the Greyjoy boy. They were also quite close with who was dubbed ‘The Troublesome Two’. Jon was with Arya a lot and Alysanne with Bran. They both also cared for the youngest Stark, two-year-old Rickon, who was with any one of his six siblings when he wasn't with his mother. The only child there seemed to be any disconnect with was Sansa, the one who looked most like Catelyn Stark, but she reminded Ashara of the prim and proper ladies in King’s Landing who looked down at her for being anything less than perfect. Those were the same ones who believed bastards to be lechers and greedy heathens and nothing more. She was young yet, she may learn. She may not.

Alysanne, for her part, clung to Ashara as much as she could. She sought Ashara out alone where Jon did not. She accompanied her to the godswood to pray. She held her hand as they walked through Winterfell. She wanted to know everything she could about Ashara’s travels and had no problem plying her with stories about herself. Given the chance, Alysanne would never leave Ashara's side but Ashara was firm enough to make sure she did not miss her lessons for the sake of Ashara's company and Alysanne listened to her without question or too much protest. She liked Alysanne well enough, truly she did. She did not mind the girl calling her ‘Mother’ or spending time with her (and the Gods knew if the child clung to her that much, she had no concept of what a mother was and little girls needed their mothers) but Jon was her son. She carried him in her womb, she nursed him and worried over him for days whilst keeping him locked away in a cave. She cried herself tired on a beach watching her son sail away in a galley. She had hopes and dreams that revolved around her son. She wanted to walk around Starfall with him, show him their home. She wanted to sit with him atop Palestone Sword Tower and watch the rushing waves. She wanted to listen to his heartbeats, confirm that he did live despite all the forces that came up to see to it that he did not. All these years, she had wanted her son. Not Rhaegar’s daughter, not even Elia’s son but it was her son who she wept for, which her heart ached for and now she was close to him but still just as far as she had been when she was a continent away from him.

“You’re not happy.” Arthur remarked one morning as their family took their midday meal together in Alaric’s chambers. Ashara looked up at her older brother. He was watching her quietly. More like studying her. She hated when he did that. It was a habit he developed in King’s Landing. Too much time standing around not expected to speak but having to pay attention if he wanted to survive. She hated when he did it with her. She flicked a grain of jasmine rice, one of the offerings she brought with her to Winterfell, at him in retaliation for his efforts. He stared at her for a full five seconds before diving for his fork to flick rice back at her much to the entertained delight of Allyria and Edric. Alaric sighed to himself,

“It’s almost like you two received no home training. It’s almost like you’re not both well into your thirties and thus grown adults. It’s almost like you’re not one of the most respected swordsmen in modern history, brother. And you, sister, are not—”

“What? A dishonored Dornish whore?” Ashara shot back with a beatific smile on to hide her self-deprecation.

“Auntie?” Edric intoned with confusion. Ashara immediately cursed herself. She shouldn’t have said that in front on him.

“Don’t mind me, my dear. Your aunt’s brain has been scrambled from spending too much time in the Essosi sun.” She reassured him, not missing the looks her siblings gave her.

“Yes. Clearly she has if that is the opinion she holds for herself.” Allyria agreed, shooting her a look.

“I don’t need to hold it for myself. Everyone else does. King Robert was very vocal about that in front of the entire court.” Allyria waved a dismissive hand.

“We are not everyone else, certainly not King Robert and the leeches of King’s Landing. We are your family. Arthur is right, it’s clear you are not as happy as you could be. What is the matter?”

“It’s nothing you can fix.” Ashara replied, sipping her wine.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“It’s just… it’s Jon. I don’t think he wants me here.” She finally said.

“Why would you think that?” Allyria asked with a frown.

“We have been here for three days already and he has been avoiding me. He won’t be alone with me. He barely talks to me. It’d be just my luck that he hates me.” Allyria snorted in a decidedly unladylike fashion as Arthur shook his head.

“He doesn’t hate you. This is the first I’ve gotten to see him since he was a babe, that’s true, but we’ve exchanged letters and he always asked about you. He always said he wished he could meet you and was sad he couldn’t.” Allyria reassured her.

“I’ve watched Jon grow, Ash. He always loved you, always wished for his mother. It’s not a surprise. Catelyn has never warmed to him or Alys. However, the first few years of his life he didn’t even know you were his mother and then when he was old enough to be told who you were, he was told you were dead. He wasn’t told how but he heard people talking soon enough, heard them say you threw yourself from Palestone Sword Tower in grief. I could talk silly notions of guilt out of Alys but your son is significantly more stubborn. Wonder where he gets that from.” Arthur said, giving her a smile as he reached out and held her hand.

Ashara took time to think on what her brother had said. Part of her nervousness had been seeing her son after so many years and part of the torment of being back in Westeros was being seen as alive again but somehow she had not taken into account what that might’ve done to her son. He believed his whole life that she was dead and now she shows up out of nowhere thinking they could pick up where they left off. Gods, she was a fool. Edric suddenly mumbled something under his breath.

“What’s that, Ned?” Allyria asked.

“I said I’ve seen Jon get picked on by some of the guards in Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy. They say mean things to him. Say he must have been especially horrible for his mother to leave him with his father and fake her death.” A part of Ashara rose up in anger because how dare they speak to her son in such a way but another was once again angry at herself. His life was already harder than most born of noble blood for being a bastard. Before he was a motherless bastard and then a bastard whose mother loved him so she went mad with grief and killed herself. Now, he was a bastard with a mother who simply chose not to be there and no one here knew the real reason why. She told Robert she left so she could have some semblance of freedom. If he was anything like her, and apparently he’d gained her knack for self-deprecation, he’d think she meant freedom from him. That he had hindered her when it couldn’t be anything further from the truth. He saved her, in more ways than one and she couldn’t even express it to him fully. However, she knew she had to speak to him at length. They couldn’t proceed any other way.

“You should talk to him.” Alaric said, echoing her thoughts.

“I will as soon as I can.” Ashara replied, determination filtering into her voice.

“He spends a lot of time in the godswood. He said it was because Lady Stark doesn’t go there a lot. She follows the Seven. They even have a sept here, like us in Starfall. It’s much smaller than ours though.” Edric said. Ashara nodded and flashed a smile of thanks to her nephew for the information.

~*~*~

Winterfell was large and easy to get lost in. Some walls looked the same as others and Ashara got a bit turned around looking for Jon, especially after not finding him in the godswood. The Northerners she passed stared at her as she went. She would think after four days she wouldn’t be as much of an oddity but they still stared, still whispered, still looked at her like she was a murmur's attraction. She supposed she brought it on herself. She must be a walking mystery to these people: their honorable lord's former lover, the bastards of Winterfell's mother come back to life who now found herself in Winterfell with Lady Stark.

For her part, Lady Stark had not spoken to her at all. Ashara felt her eyes on her at times, how could she not? The woman’s glare was like a sunbeam. Ashara was never alone with Ned but if she did talk to him (always with Arthur and/or Alaric there) she could feel Lady Catelyn hovering nearby watching them. Ashara didn’t overly mind the distance, she had no wish to talk to the woman. Why would she? Yet Catelyn pushed Jon and Alys to spend time with Ashara, making small comments and suggestions here and there. Ashara wasn't an idiot, she knew why the Lady of Winterfell did so. Ashara would rather not think on it.

She managed to find her way to the training yards after walking around for a while. Ser Rodrik was there instructing the boys. Jon was sparring with the Greyjoy boy while Robb Stark watched on. Ashara paused, half hidden behind a wall, and observed the two. Greyjoy, a gangly but muscled boy of six and one, was cocky and overconfident. He taunted Jon frequently, talked more than he swung his dulled sword. Most probably to get a rise out of Jon who was clearly the better swordsman. Jon mostly ignored him but Ashara could see some of the jabs landed.

“Come on then, bastard. You are still a bastard. Doesn’t matter if your so-called mother is here or not.” Greyjoy said with a large smirk on his face, while deflecting a low swipe from Jon.

“Theon, come off it and fight.” Robb warned from his perch.

“She didn’t want you in the first place anyway, did she?” Greyjoy continued, going for a strike which Jon easily parried.

“What’s it say about you that your mother decides to let you believe she flung herself off a cliff than be with you?” That seemed to hit Jon and Theon pushed an advantage. They crossed blades, getting locked there for a moment before Theon pushed Jon hard and he stumbled back and then tripped to the muddy ground close to where Ashara spectated. She felt some anger at witnessing Greyjoy’s abuse but she knew that Jon must win this fight himself. She pushed herself from behind the wall and approached Jon, ignoring the other boys and men in the yard. Jon’s eyes widened a little upon seeing her kneel beside him.

“Are you alright?” She asked lowly so the others wouldn’t hear. He nodded quietly after his initial shock.

“He leaves his left open every third parry.” She advised. Jon stared at her before silently nodding again. Ashara held out a hand and helped him up before nudging him back towards the squid lordling. Jon held his sword at ready. He and Theon went back at it again, their blades crossing over and over again.

“Bet you think you’re going to be something. You won’t be Lord of Winterfell or Starfall, won’t be Sword of the Morning, good luck finding someone who’ll accept an anointed knight who follows tree gods. What are you going to be? Nothing. Just a bastard. An unwanted bastard with a Dornish whore for a mother.” Ashara heard that term often used to describe her. She tried not to care on principle but she couldn’t deny the thrill of joy she felt as Jon pressed the advantage Theon left open on his left side after his third parry. He effortlessly disarmed him and got him on his back on the floor, the sword pointed towards his neck.

“Good job, Jon.” Ser Rodrik praised as Ashara impulsively began clapping for Jon with a large, prideful smile on her face causing him to blush. She knew she was drawing the attention of the men there but she hardly cared.

“Theon, let’s work on you focusing on fighting next time and not talking.” He continued as Greyjoy stood up with a sour look on his face. Jon looked back at her after putting the practice sword away. She kept her smile as she approached him.

“I was looking for you, I didn’t know you were training. You did well.” She complimented.

“Uncle Arthur trains me.” Jon replied in a small voice.

“It shows. I suppose one could do worse than the Sword of the Morning. You’ll be right up there with the best swordsmen one day, it's obvious.” A dusting of red came to Jon’s cheek from Ashara’s praise.

“I don’t know about that. You heard Theon, he was right.” Ashara didn’t restrain her eyeroll.

“Theon Greyjoy is a boy 6 years your senior who is just jealous that he isn’t as good a swordsman as you. And so he must use taunts and words to trip you up in order not to be embarrassed in front of all these men by being beaten by a bastard. I’ve met a fair number of cocky men like that. It’s a tactic that never served any of them in an actual battle. Skills, like the ones you possess, is what wins the battle and saves your life.” Ashara replied with a shrug, not caring that Greyjoy was still in hearing range. He hadn’t cared that she could hear him when he insulted her and her son. She was sure she heard Robb Stark snickering at her words as Greyjoy huffed but she focused on Jon who looked taken aback by her words before a slight smile graced his lips. She felt warm to see it but did not let it deter her from her purpose.

“I had come to look for you because I wanted to speak to you, alone.” Jon frowned at that.

“Now?”

“It’s a matter of great import. The sooner the better. I thought the godswood would be a good place to meet.” Jon shuffled on his feet before nodding curtly.

“I’ll clean myself up and meet you as soon as possible then.”

"Of course, dear. I shall wait for you there." Jon nodded grimly before walking off. Ashara shook her head. Gods, he was just like Ned. His disposition was so dark and sullen. She turned and made to walk away but stopped as a voice called to her. She turned to see Robb Stark approaching her nervously.

"Lady Ashara." He greeted, bowing at the waist. Ashara quirked a bemused eyebrow but returned the greeting with a nod.

"I just wanted to apologize for Theon's words. He always talks like that to Jon and I but he had no right to drag you into it and I apologize." Ashara stared down at Ned's son. His face was full of sincerity. He didn't seem the least bit put off by her.

"Is there something wrong with his mouth that he cannot apologize himself?"

"Theon doesn't apologize."

"He should work on that."

"Maybe. But I know he didn't mean it, he's just hurt because Jon and Alys get to see you but he doesn't get to see his mother." Ashara took a moment to take into account what Robb Stark said. She supposed Greyjoy would miss his mother. Ashara could understand the pain Alannys Greyjoy must feel having her son so far away, not able to see him. But Ashara got her wish, she had Jon. Others weren't so lucky.

"I admit, I was nervous when Father first said you were coming to Winterfell." Ashara snapped out of her musings upon Robb Stark's confession.

"And why is that?"

"I thought you were going to take Jon and Alys away." Ashara paused at that.

"Did Ned say anything about that?"

"No. I just assumed and when my mother agreed... well, I know my mother and I'm sure she was thinking the same thing I was thinking: that they would leave with you eventually. I didn't want them to go anywhere. They've been with me as long as I can remember. Father says that with Uncle Benjen at The Wall and Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna gone, it's like missing a limb, an important part of yourself. I don't ever want to feel that. My siblings and I have always been together. We're a pack. But I've never seen Alys as happy and carefree as she's been in the last four days with you here. And even though Jon tries to look tough and aloof, I know he is happy you're here too. Anyway, the point I'm making is, it might not be so bad for them to get away from Winterfell for a while, to be with their mother and away from mine. I will miss them but if I didn't say anything, it'd be because of my own selfish desires. They are my family. It's my duty to look out for them and their best interests." Ashara was somewhat taken aback by the maturity, understanding and empathy with which the young Stark spoke but it was very akin to Ned as well.

"I hadn't thought to bring them away but I may speak to Ned on it. Nothing can be set in stone just yet." She settled as a reply. Robb nodded in answer with a thoughtful look which melted away as he glanced behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Arya and Bran Stark quite obviously sneaking around. Robb shook his head, smiling widely and mischievously at the sight. It reminded her so much of Brandon it was dizzying for a moment.

"I shan't talk your ear off any longer. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Winterfell, my lady." The boy ran around her, approaching his younger siblings who jumped at being caught out before running away, their older brother giving chase. Ashara shook her head, memories of she and Arthur with Alaric flooding her head. He had always been the one more responsible for them than their father whenever Mother wasn't around. With Yelyssa Dayne having died with her last pregnancy and Father disappointed to not have another boy to replace the spare heir he lost in Arthur after he joined the kingsguard, it fell to Alaric to raise Allyria. Ashara felt sorry that her eldest brother never got the chance to be a child in every sense of the word but he never seemed to regret it himself.

Ashara made her way leisurely to the godswood then, kneeling before the Heart Tree when she reached it. She stared at the grim, frowning face. It stood in stark contrast to the Heart Tree at Starfall which held a smiling face. So many things in the North were somber and dull. But it also held a feeling of safety to it that the South didn’t. The North didn’t have time for Southern games, Ned once told her. It was plainly obvious the more time she spent in Winterfell. Even so, she couldn’t deny that within any godswood she felt peace. Hell, even the mockery of a godswood in King’s Landing was a refuge for her. There weren’t many godswoods in Essos. They followed Ghis and Valyrian religions more than not. The Red God was very popular there. Curiously though, there was a godswood with a weirwood tree in Volantis. It was a large part of the reason she went there. It was a young, small tree that didn't have a face. A merchant had bought the seed and planted it in the garden of his estate to draw visitors to the novel sight, so he could peddle his wares without ever leaving his home.

She hadn’t told anyone else that that was why she wanted to go Volantis, not even Aegon. She had wanted the experience for herself. Connington didn’t follow any gods but Aegon knew about the seven thanks to Septa Lemore and the men which they sailed with made sure he knew all about the Merling King and the Moon-Pale Maiden. Besides, Connington would have surely given her an earful for putting herself at risk over a tree. She’d rather have avoided the extra conflict with him. She had grown to enjoy the quiet away from him.

She stayed by the tree for a while, not praying but enjoying the quiet of the godswood for a long while before she heard the crunch of leaves underfoot. She turned to see Jon approaching her stiffly, his eyes curious but troubled. She gave him a comforting smile to ease any tension he might have felt and patted the space beside her in the grass. He knelt down without much more prompting than that, staring ahead at the Heart Tree.

"Thank you for coming."

"You asked me to."

“I feel I must apologize to you, son.” Jon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“For what?”

“For making assumptions I had no right to. I’ve come here out of the blue, seemingly back from the dead, and I haven’t offered you any explanations about anything. I’ve simply acted as if we could pick up where we left off. Alysanne may not care to ask any questions but it’s clear you do. So, I would answer anything you ask of me as honestly as I can.”

“Anything I ask?” Jon clarified in a doubtful tone.

“Yes, anything.”

“Where have you been the last few years?” He asked after thinking for a while.

“In Essos. I've floated between the Free Cities and the Slave Cities, but mostly I've been aboard a ship with a man named Griff. I gained employment as his son, Young Griff’s, septa.”

“But you aren’t a septa, are you?” Jon asked with some confusion.

“No, but not everyone knows that.” Ashara replied with a secretive smile.

“So… you raise this Young Griff?” Ashara felt her smile wane.

“I help raise him, yes.” Jon was quiet for a long while.

“Jon—”

“Why did you leave? Why did you tell everyone you had died? It can’t just be that you didn’t want to be a mother, you raise this other boy. So, it must be because you didn’t want us, right?”

“No, that isn’t right. Not at all.”

“Isn’t it? I… I’ve spent my whole life wishing for you, wanting you here. I… I made you a grave outside Winterfell’s walls so I could feel like I was visiting you, only to find out this whole time you were alive. And you’ve been someone else’s mother. I thought I killed you. I thought I made you kill yourself. But you were…” Jon trailed off with a sigh of frustration. Ashara felt such hurt and shame well up in her as a tear slipped past Jon’s eye down his cheek. He scrubbed at his skin viciously to rid himself of the evidence of his pain but it was clear as day to Ashara. A mother just knew, and it was clear there was no small wealth of hurt in her son and she was no small part of the reason behind it. Jon looked ready to abandon the conversation altogether, to flee from having to feel the pain. Ashara did not want that to happen.

"In Essos, on that boat with Griff and Young Griff we travel all over. I've seen the harpy statue high above the pyramids of Meereen. I've sailed pass the ruins of Old Valyria more times than I can count. I've met people from far and wide: The Free Cities, the Summer Isles, Sothoryos even. And yes, I've tucked Young Griff into bed. I've read him stories. I taught him his letters and numbers. But all the while I've never been fully happy. How could I be? How could I be happy when you've been here, and I've been there." Jon reluctantly looked over at her.

"But you left."

"I did. I’ve done a lot of things I regret but sending you away North with Ned isn't one of them because it saved you. It made sure you lived and that was all I ever wanted, was to protect you." Jon scrunched his eyes in confusion. Ashara let out a dry chuckle.

"So many things seemed insurmountable at the time, and most were, but maybe some weren't. Those ones keep me up at night." Jon still looked confused. Ashara took a deep breath and turned to face Jon. She hadn't spoke about she and Ned or that time during the Rebellion since the war happened but if there was ever a time...

"Has your father ever told you how we met?" Ashara asked. Jon shook his head.

"He doesn't like to talk about anything that happened around or during the Rebellion, but Uncle Arthur said it started with a dance."

"That it did. I met your father at Harrenhall during the Year of the False Spring at a tourney. There was a feast and I had many offers to dance that night. And I did dance. I danced a lot with many men, women even, Elia mostly.” She recalled pulling Elia from her lobbying for Rhaegar’s deposition of Aerys and her melancholic longing for the dancefloor whilst Rhaegar was nowhere to be found. Ashara would not stand for her friend to sit out simply because her husband decided to disappear, so she dragged Elia behind her and they danced and spun amongst the aghast courtiers like they had at many a festival in Sunspear. It was the first Elia had smiled and laughed without weariness, with abandon since Aegon’s birth so Ashara hadn't cared. She smiled in the faces of the naysayers and small-minded leeches and it was easy when Elia was by her side. That carefree attitude she used to so wantonly exhibit had drawn her to a particular wolf, but she would learn better that night.

“In truth, that night all I wanted was to dance with one person in particular: Brandon Stark. Gods, every girl swooned over him and he knew it. But the boys swooned over me and I knew it too so I decided I would wait for him to come to me and not the other way around. I was cocky back then. We played our game of chase most of the night, far beyond propriety. He did come to me eventually and asked me to dance with his younger brother rather than himself. Ned was much more plain compared to Brandon but I danced with him all the same with the promise that Brandon would save a dance for me. Your father was quite shy, blushing and stumbling over his words like a maiden." Jon shot her an incredulous look and she chuckled in reply.

"It's true. He wasn't Lord of Winterfell then, he was Brandon's little brother and Robert's quiet friend. He was barely able to speak to me, but he danced with such grace. It was like his feet weren't his own. I kept dancing with him and soon words came easier and I forgot all about Brandon. We spent the whole tourney together, Ned and I. I was very devious I’m afraid. I was trying very hard to corrupt him, to see just how much The Vale had chipped away at the inscrutable Northern lord but I was surprised to find that not much had. It was queer, if amusing that Brandon should be the rapscallion when he’d stayed North his whole life but then I suppose he didn’t see as much of the world as Ned had so it didn't interest Ned as much.” She paused to think on that. Maybe that was why Brandon had been foolhardy enough to march to the gates of the Red Keep making demands. He had run so wild, his wit and tongue and charm too sharp. He was always going to find trouble. He managed to find it quite often from Ashara’s recollection of him. Even at the tourney he’d managed to pick a fight over Catelyn Tully with Petyr Baelish. She pushed her musings on Brandon away as Jon stared at her expectantly, clearly wanting her to continue.

“Well, your father was perfectly honorable and upon our parting he kissed my hand and saw me off. We exchanged letters when he returned to The Vale. We were even able to meet up in Dorne where he proposed to me. I said 'yes'." Jon's eyes widened in shock.

“But, if you were betrothed…” He trailed off, trying to grasp the situation.

"He left to make preparations for us. I returned to King's Landing where I would soon discover my pregnancy. Ned stopped off in The Vale and then went on to Winterfell to ask for his father's permission to marry me."

"What happened?" Jon asked. Ashara gave him a sad smile.

"Lyanna Stark went missing and soon the realm knew it was Rhaegar who had her. Your uncle brashly stormed a madman's gates and your grandfather followed to save his son and they both died. Aerys called for Ned and even his younger brother’s heads. He wanted to paint his throne room with Starks he said. I knew if he ever found out about my pregnancy I'd be on his hitlist too so I told my dear friend, Princess Elia, and she arranged for me to return to Starfall before the Rebellion went into full swing. Perhaps if she hadn't we wouldn't be here now.” Would Elia even want her here? Or would she rather that Ashara be back in Essos by Aegon’s side? But no, Elia would understand that Ashara needed to see her child, needed time with him. Elia was always too understanding.

“My father wasn't happy to see me even before he discovered my pregnancy. He heard all about my exploits and supposed promiscuity in the capital. He was more Westerman than Dornishman, my father. To have a daughter who defied what his standards of ladyship was did not please him in the slightest. I was a bad influence for Allyria, he said. I made sure to announce my pregnancy around the most people I could just to slight him, so I could watch him squirm. It didn’t help make things any more comfortable for me at the keep. He was vehement that I could not go through with the pregnancy. He tried to make me drink moontea but I refused. He tried to force maesters with dangerous procedures on me, but I evaded it until I came up with the plan to hide you away from him. A friend of mine, a midwife, she set me up in a cave on Starfall and told my father that you had died in the womb.”

“Alys and I were born in a cave?” Jon asked, sounding disappointed and disturbed. But it also helped to focus Ashara. She was reaching more dangerous territory and she must keep Alysanne in mind when telling whatever version of events she needed to.

“Yes. It wasn’t so bad a cave. It was warm enough. There was a stream flowing through it. Allyria, Wylla and I brought some things from the castle to make it more accommodating. I felt more comfortable there than in the keep where my father’s spies watched me all day and he glared at me any chance he got. Allyria was the only saving grace during that time. She adored you before you were even born. We agreed on Alysanne's name. As for you, she wanted to name you Ammeric or another Dayne name but I thought a Northern name would be better. Ned arrived to the island a few months after you were born.”

“Why?” Jon asked. Ashara could not say the truth, it wouldn’t make sense so she thought quickly.

“He and Arthur had faced off at the Tower of Joy where Rhaegar had Lyanna Stark. Once the fighting was done and they both realized they had lost, and Rhaegar and Lyanna were dead, they came to Starfall to return Dawn and to… say goodbye, I suppose. Ned was already married to Catelyn by then, Robb Stark was already born. We hadn’t had any correspondence with each other since the war started but with him and Arthur there, I knew it was the best chance you and Alysanne had. I convinced Ned to take you two and Arthur with him to the North away from my father and away from King Robert who would see Arthur, the last remaining kingsguard loyal to Rhaegar present when Lyanna died, as a Targaryen loyalist and culpable in her death.” Jon nodded his head after a moment.

“Getting you out of Starfall… it was something of an ordeal. I had to hide you in a linen basket from my father, told him it was a parting gift for Ned. Even then if it wasn’t for Alaric telling my father to stop hassling me, he might have looked inside and seen you and Alys. Then it would’ve been all over. I handed you over to Ned on that beach and it was one of the easiest and hardest things I’ve ever done.” Jon lifted an eyebrow at that.

“How can a thing be easy and hard at the same time?”

“It was easy because I was confident that I’d made the right decision to protect you. I knew Ned would see you safe and healthy and he would do right by you. It was hard because I was losing you. I was sending you away, far away from me. I wasn’t sure when or if I would ever see you again. As soon as you left, all I wanted was for you to come back but I couldn’t let myself give in to that because it could mean your life and I would never forgive myself for endangering you. More than I already had anyway.”

“Would my grandfather, Lord Aron, really have hated Alys and I so much? His own blood?” Ashara knew that was important, the blood part. Catelyn hated him because he wasn’t her blood. It must be disheartening to think his blood grandfather would do the same but Ashara had never been fond of her father, death would hardly change that. Still, she aimed to soften the blow to her son.

“I don’t know. He was a hard, strict man but there were times when I did see him soften with Allyria. I’m told he was quite close to Edric, though he died before I could see that for myself. Maybe he’d look upon you and see his grandson, maybe he wouldn’t, I can’t say. What I do know is that I have only ever seen one person in the world as my son and that’s you. No one has ever replaced you or ever could. You’re not just a bastard and don’t let anyone ever tell you different. You have the blood of House Dayne flowing in your veins. It gives you the blood of ancestors going back to the First Men, ancient and noble blood that cannot be contested. Your blood is that of Kings of the Torrentine, of King Samwell Dayne and King Vorian Dayne. Your blood is of Ser Davos Dayne, husband of Princess Nymeria herself. Your blood is of those who faced off against Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters and were unbowed, unbent and unbroken. You share blood with those who forged Dawn from a falling star and still wield it today as the Sword of the Morning. Your great-grandfather was Amun Dayne, a fierce warrior, and your great-grandmother was Myreah Martell, one of the smartest women I ever knew. Your grandfather, Aron, was not a perfect man but he ensured the legacy of his house as best he knew how. And your grandmother? My mother, Yelyssa, had more love in her heart than she knew what to do with and so I know she would have showered you in it. That is your family. That is the legacy you belong to just as much as House Stark's. Alaric, Arthur, Shana, Allyria, Edric: they are your family too. I should’ve been here to teach you about all of that. I should’ve made sure you knew your history. I am sorry I wasn’t and I can’t change that but I can be here now. I can witness the skilled, kind young man you’re growing into and I can make sure you know I am proud of you. I can make sure you know that never once has being your mother given me a cause for shame. I am not ashamed of you. I have no reason to be. You shouldn’t be ashamed either, never let anyone make you feel so.” Ashara was breathing heavily by the time she had stopped speaking. Jon was staring at her in awe with glassy eyes.

“But everyone says that bastards are proof of sin, born tainted.” Ashara rolled her eyes.

“Those people are fools for believing such garbage. How can a newborn be beholden to a perceived sin of their parents? It’s ridiculous. Things aren’t that way as a society in Dorne, my father notwithstanding. I would gladly have made you Jon Dayne there. Well, once King Robert allowed it.” Jon’s eyes widened again.

“You would… legitimize me to your house, and Alysanne too?” Ashara inwardly bristled at calling the girl a Dayne but did not let it show.

“I would. I told you I am not ashamed of you.” A tear fell down Jon’s cheek and this time he didn’t wipe it away. Ashara reached out a finger and gently wiped the tear track clean before pulling her son to her in an embrace.

“I love you, you know that?” She mumbled into his dark curls. Jon shook in her arms but didn’t answer her.

“I love you, Jon. I always have. I always will.” She reiterated to make sure he knew and heard her. That was one truth that had grounded her for years, a feeling that kept her steady and real. Love thrummed in her chest for him with every beat and it sustained her that way even when he was nowhere near. He had saved her in more ways than one, her little boy. Oft times she couldn’t put it into words, so instead she poured it into the embrace and hoped it was enough.

~*~*~

Things were much better after they talked. Jon freely sought her out in the days after, spending hours in her chambers with her, with and without Alysanne. Ashara had taught Jon cyvasse and some Volantenese as well as Tyroshi words and he took to the languages well enough. He and Alysanne ate with her family some nights. When he wasn't with his siblings and Edric playing, he would go off with Allyria, who wanted to spend as much time as possible with her nephew. Ashara would often supervise the two to make sure they didn't kick up too much trouble. Arthur found it laughable, that someone as childish as she could be supervising anything. She dyed a shirt of his pink in retaliation for the slight, which proved his point but, oh well. The children got a real laugh out of it at least. Even Ned had chuckled and smiled at her before Catelyn took notice and he stopped.

For the first time in a long time, Ashara could say she wasn’t just content or settled but happy. She was genuinely happy. So, naturally, something had to ruin it because why should it not? She wondered at Lord Connington having the temerity and bravery to send a letter to Winterfell of all places so brazenly, but that was what he chose to do.

She was in the courtyard watching the children play a game they called Monsters and Maidens. Jon, Alysanne, Robb, Edric, Arya and Bran were fighting each other, under the guise of various other warriors, to save Sansa and Rickon. Or they should've been but little Arya, who was a wildling spearwife, turned coat somewhere in the middle and instead tried to “kill” Sansa and steal Rickon away. Somehow she had roped Jon, who was supposed to be Aemon the Dragonknight, into aiding her in her efforts despite the inconsistencies in the role he played. Ashara shook her head in amusement before she felt eyes on her. She turned to where the penetrating gaze was originating only to find Ned tucked in a shadowy corner staring at her. He nodded for her to come to him before melting away. Ashara looked around herself to see if anyone had noticed. She could stay where she was and continue to watch the children but if Ned was summoning her after going through such lengths to not be alone with her this whole trip then there must be something wrong.

She turned and made her way to where Ned had been and saw him standing at the end of a corridor. He nodded to her to follow him once more and she did. She was acutely reminded of when she led him to the caves of Starfall to find Jon. She followed him through the corridors as they made their way downstairs into what she soon realized were the crypts of Winterfell. He led her down to the second floor of the crypts and walked with her down the aisle, lit up by torches which cast orange light around the otherwise dark enclosure. They passed statues of men wearing crowns down here, Kings of Winter Ashara realized and she wondered if their spirits were at all uneasy with her there. She was not a Stark, even if she had birthed one, and she was descended from the Kings of the Torrentine. There wasn't any bad blood between the two dynasties as far as she knew but still, she did wonder. Ned stopped in front of the effigy of an imposing man. He had a pelt wrapped around his shoulders and an axe in one hand with a greatsword in the other.

"King Jon Stark." Ned said after he caught her staring.

"Fitting." Ashara commented shortly before turning to her former lover. Ned's face was hard, nigh on unreadable in the way he was in Starfall after the war. He was so different from the youth she once knew but she supposed she was different too.

"What is it you spirited me down here for?" Ned held up a letter with a blank broken seal of sky blue. She instantly recognized the color of Griff and Young Griff's hair.

"A raven arrived in the rookery, unmarked. It wasn't until I read it that I realized it was meant for you."

"What does it say?" Ashara asked.

"Lord Connington wants you to know that he grows weary of waiting for you. He says Young Griff is boiling in the sun and smoke of Volantis seeing as how they haven't left since you were taken. He says Young Griff wishes to take a trip to Lys so he might be once again acquainted with the features of his ancestors since he has been forbidden from the ruins, though Lord Connington did pay mind not to specify which ruins. They won't leave without you though." She could tell from Ned's face that he had figured out enough of the truth.

"Ned—"

"I understood, you know. I understood why you couldn't be with Jon and I thought that one day when things were different, when they were better, he could see you again. Then I heard that you had killed yourself. Now you're here. I’ve been wondering about it. Why would you fake your death and leave? Why would you leave our son who I know you loved? I should've known if it was for anyone it would be for Elia. You were always close." Ned didn't sound like he was judging her, per se, but his voice was hard and betrayed no real understanding despite his choice of words.

"Ned, I—" She started again but he cut her off again.

"Did Arthur know? All this time?"

"Alaric and Allyria knew, they might've told him. I don't know. You and Jon were gone and I couldn't see either of you. Then Young Griff was there in Starfall not even a month after. He's her son. I had to protect him. I don't exactly enjoy my time with Connington, but Young Griff is a child. He shouldn’t grow up surrounded by sad, embittered men his whole life who see his father more than they do him. I couldn't abandon him."

"Not him." Her jaw tensed at the plain insinuation.

“The plan was never to stay away forever. I was always going to come back.”

"Come back and do what? What are you planning to do? Start a war? Unseat Robert and his children? Hasn't the realm bled enough?"

"He's the rightful heir." Ashara retorted.

"Robert is the king by right of conquest because Aerys and Rhaegar destroyed their house. Just because Aeg—”

“Shh.” Ashara uttered sharply, cutting him off. The North wasn’t the South but still, some things should not be spoken at all.

“Just because _he_ shares the blood of two dishonored dead men doesn't mean he has any more right to the throne than Robert's children do, or that he's more fit for it."

"And Robert is? When's the last you saw your friend? He's nothing but a bitter, drunken, lustful beast of a man waddling about the capital fucking anything he can and cursing Targaryens and anyone who ever knew them. What has he actually done for the realm besides fight? And fighting for it makes him a good enough warrior but it doesn't make him a good king."

"You leave for years and come back only to preach treason?" Ashara paused, feeling anger growing in her but she tamped it down. She couldn't say what she needed to say in anger. And she did need to see it, everyday and every interaction just solidified the point that she could not leave Winterfell alone.

"Don't worry. I shall leave soon enough, and I think I should take Jon and Alysanne with me." Ned scoffed immediately in reply.

"Are you japing? So, they can be party in your treason? No."

"You'd rather they stay here and be party in _your_ treason?" Ned paused and stared at her.

"Robert was quite vocal about wanting all dragons dead and you house one under your roof. Bastard or not, half-Stark or not, if Robert ever knew and knew that you lied about it do you really think he'd make any delineation between your lies and mine? And either way I'd still be taken down for treason for saying she is mine."

"I never forced you to."

"I never said you did but can you honestly tell me they will thrive here in Winterfell with your wife who hates them and scorns them while you say nothing?"

"What am I to say? She's my wife."

"They're your children. Blood or no, they call you father. They don't deserve her ire, they don't deserve judgement from people here just because their last names are Snow. You know I'm right." Ned held her gaze for a moment before sighing and looking down.

"I know they deserve better."

"Yet you don't provide them with better."

"What options do they have that I should think are ones suitable for them? Should I tell Jon to join Benjen at the Wall or go on to Oldtown to become a maester? Should I tell Alysanne to become a septa or to join the silent sisters? It's not for them. Jon's talent with a blade is better than any of the others here and Alys is too willful and bright to be locked away in a sept to devote herself to the Seven, gods she doesn't even follow."

"Those aren't their only options, not if they leave Winterfell or the North altogether."

"So, I should just let you take them to Essos where anything can happen to them?"

"I'm not taking them to Essos. I won't." Ned gave her a doubtful look. Ashara took a step closer to him as she realized some of his frost had melted away.

"Look, I wish I could've gotten a raven to you and told you the truth of what my fate was. Everything was happening so fast and I needed to get him away from Westeros as soon as I could. I've thought of Jon every day that I've been away, just as I've thought of my siblings and you. I... I don't _want_ to start a war but Connington is determined to pay his debt to Rhaegar by seating his son and besides which there are others playing their games and I could never think to stop all of them. But beyond that, do not think I don't think of our Jon in all of this. He's happy here but not at the same time. He is most happy when he is with his siblings, he loves them and he loves you, but he is not happy being the source of Lady Catelyn's hatred or the butt of Theon Greyjoy's jokes or anyone else prejudices. He needs to see a world outside of this. I would bring him, and Alysanne, to Dorne. Let them see House Dayne's ancestral home, let Jon learn more about his history, let them grow further under the less restrictive environment in Dorne and then I'll bring them back to you."

"What about your friend?"

"He'll just have to learn patience and I'll have to trust him with Young Griff." Ned stood silently for a long while in contemplation.

"Ned?" Ashara asked, anxious for an answer. Ned's eyes snapped over to look at her, but he didn't immediately answer. Ashara felt her confusion shifting to something else as she noticed Ned was staring at her, his eyes shifting over her face as if taking her in. It was only then she realized that she hadn't been this close to him, the only man she could claim she was ever actually in love with, in 11 years. There were lines born of worry rather than age on his face. His bearded face a contrast to the clean-shaven young man she once knew. His shoulders sloped a little, like he carried a heavy weight and Ashara could understand because she knew. His grey eyes were still as akin to steel and iron as ever, but they were steadily melting the more she stared at him and he at her. If he were Brandon, Ashara might let herself entertain thoughts that he would forget his honor with her and she might entertain thoughts that she would ever allow him to but it was Ned, his self-control had self-control when it came to such things so she didn't worry but a part of her wished to forget everything else for a moment and be the girl of the past, smitten and in love with a man who she had never thought to be her type but had managed to claim her heart nonetheless.

"I mourned you." Ned said suddenly, his voice low and with a shadow of hurt but still steady.

"I mourned you and I... I cursed you for taking yourself away from the world, from Jon... from me. I couldn't... losing you made it easier to move on. I thought you were dead and Catelyn was here." Ashara searched Ned's eyes. She could see all the things he didn't say or couldn't find the words to say shining in his eyes.

"Catelyn seems a good, loyal wife." Ashara said simply.

"She is."

"She seems to run a keep well."

"She does."

"She loves and cares for her children."

"She does."

"You love her." Ashara stated rather than questioned but Ned answered anyway.

"I hadn't always but I do." Ashara knew that. She could tell it in the way Ned and Catelyn were together. Despite Catelyn's jealousy of Ashara, the way Ned gazed at Catelyn, it was clear to see it was love.

Ashara looked down and took a step back, not wanting to invade Ned's space anymore, especially not in the home he shared with his wife and so she missed the gaze of pain mixed with longing, conflict and love on Ned's face but maybe that was better for everyone involved.

"I'm sorry for the hurt and trouble I've caused you, Ned. It was never my intention to do so, not to you or Jon or anyone else. I don't wish to impose on your home any longer. I'd like to take the children to Dorne, just for a little while. A few months, perhaps longer if you'd grant it, to gather new experiences."

"You will bring them back?"

"I won't keep them away from their siblings or their father forever." Ned nodded after a moment.

"If the children agree to go with you, then okay." Ashara looked up with surprise. She had expected to argue with him much longer than this. Ned noticed her look and sighed to himself.

"I still trust you, though I haven't many reasons left to do so." Ashara opened her mouth to answer but she didn't have anything to say.

"Here." Ned said, handing her the letter.

"Do yourself a favor and burn it after you've read it. No point in putting your life in anymore danger."

"Danger does seem to find me quite appealing." Ashara replied, a small smile on her lips.

"And you are far too amicable with it for your own good, though it's probably in more trouble from you than you from it." Ned retorted. He didn't smile but his eyes held mirth and Ashara could read that easily enough. Ned turned to walk away but paused, looking back at her. He seemed to wrestle with something inside of himself before he stepped back towards her and leaned down. Ashara felt herself standing stock still as Ned pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. He made to move away but Ashara’s hand, almost with a mind of its own, gripped Ned’s neck and held him there for a moment. A part of her cursed him for the cruelty of the gesture of endearment and cursed herself for prolonging it but another got momentarily lost in his skin against hers, his beard prickling against her cheek, his breath brushing against her neck. She let him out of the embrace after a while and stared at him as he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He said quietly before leaving her in the hall filled with Kings of Winter. These were men who probably had achievements as long as her arm to their names but they all seemed to fade and pale in comparison to Ned. Gods, even in her own head she sounded like a teenager with a crush or like Elia had about Rhaegar, but Ned was so much more, and he would always be more in her heart than any other man. That would never change. And so, she didn't wish him any ill-will in his marriage or Lady Catelyn any harm, but she didn't want to stay in Winterfell with the happy couple a moment more than necessary so as soon as she had skimmed Connington's letter and burned it, she went in search of Jon and Alysanne.

She found them eventually in Alysanne's room. Alys was brushing her hair in the mirror. She seemed obsessed with her hair ever since Ashara had helped her tame the curly mess. Catelyn, Sansa and Arya's hair was straight. Jon and Arthur's, while curly, was much shorter and thus their hair did not give them the same grief Alysanne's did. Ashara, having experience watching Elia deal with Rhaenys' curly mane, had taught Alys to begin brushing from the bottom and to divide and conquer in order to untangle it and now she spent a lot of time in the mirror. Jon lounged on her bed, the two chattering away about which of them would win in an archery match.

"My aim is truer than yours." Jon argued.

"But I handle it better than you. I can shoot for much longer." Alys retorted.

"That's nice enough for contests but if you're attacked, aim is more important."

"That debatable. Besides, lots of things are important in archery. Like strength... and height."

"Hey!"

"What? I'm just saying, I'm taller than you now. I probably will be for some time yet."

"I'm still growing."

"Even if you grow taller, and that's only if, I’ll still be older than you." Ashara hid her smile of amusement and decided to enter then.

"Who told you that?" She asked by way of greeting. Jon and Alysanne turned to look at her and smiled upon seeing her, making her feel warm inside.

"Told me what?" Alysanne asked, twigging on to Ashara's previous words.

"That you were older than Jon."

"Father always says so, especially in front of Lady Catelyn." Catelyn was probably more worried over Jon and Robb's ages rather than Jon and Alysanne's but she didn't say that.

"Well, unfortunately he's been misinformed. Jon was born first." Jon beamed brightly and turned to give Alysanne a haughty look. The girl huffed in reply.

"You're still shorter than me." The smile wiped clean off Jon's face and Ashara held a finger in front of her mouth to hide her smile.

"I did want to speak to you both about something important." Ashara said, walking into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. Jon crawled up to her left side and Alysanne sat on her right side.

“I’ll be leaving soon.” She announced first. She watched the children deflate at her words.

“Already? You just got here.” Alys protested.

“It’s been more than a week now. I think many people will feel I am imposing if I stay any longer.”

“Lady Catelyn, you mean?” Alys asked in a derisive tone. Ashara gave her a look in response. Alys was not afraid of Catelyn in the way Jon was, nor did she respect her the way he did which probably only made their relationship worse.

“Many people, as I said. That isn’t the point. I spoke to Ned and we agreed that, if it’s okay with you, I could take you with me.” Alys gasped before squealing with excitement as Jon’s eyes widened.

“To Essos?” He asked.

“No, not Essos. To Dorne. We can take the scenic route to Starfall. We can take a boat pass the Riverlands, the Vale, the Crownlands and the Westerlands since, trust me, it’s better if we bypass them, but we can land in the Reach and tour it before moving on to the Stormlands and pass from there into Dorne. We can leave from Mistwood in the Stormlands and visit at Wyl in Dorne and then Kingsgrave and Blackmont before reaching Starfall. It could be our own, little adventure.” Alys seemed more and more excited and Jon’s eyes glittered hopefully but he remained subdued.

“And Father agreed to this?”

“He said if you wanted to go with me you could.”

“Is Uncle Arthur coming?”

“I would imagine so.”

“But Robb and the others can’t come.” Alys’ excitement finally became tempered.

“I don’t think Lady Catelyn will allow that, but you can send ravens and you’ll get to tell stories to them when you see them again. And, it if makes it easier, Robb has told me that he thinks it would be good for you guys.”

“He did?” Jon asked, his voice carrying conflicting emotions.

“He says he’d like you to spend more time with me and I’d like it as well, only if you want to.”

“Of course we do. Right Jon?” Alys pushed. Jon was silent and Alys knocked her elbow into him to gain a response.

“Jon? You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Ashara said even though it pained her. She didn’t want to leave with Alys and not Jon. As much as she liked Alys and did not mind claiming her, Jon was her son and she was here for him.

“I do want to come. I’m just nervous I suppose. I’ve never left Winterfell. I’ve never been away from any of my siblings for so long.” Ashara smiled comfortingly.

“I understand. I was nervous when I left Starfall and moved to Sunspear to attend to Princess Elia. I had never been away from Alaric and Arthur before and I was even younger than you are now, but I made new friends, learned new things about the world and I got to see them again soon enough. We exchanged letters all the time and so when we were together again, it was like we never parted. Your siblings love you, a bond like that can’t be broken simply by distance. If anything, it grows stronger. Trust me.” She reassured him knowingly. Jon thought about it for a while more before nodding his head.

“Okay then. I’d like to go with you.” Ashara smiled brightly and pulled the two into hugs.

“Good. You should start packing as soon as possible then. Not too much furs, it’s much warmer in the South.” Alys jumped energetically from the bed and immediately began pulling clothes from her closet and drawers to Ashara’s amusement. Jon got off the bed at a much sedate pace. He flashed Ashara a smile before exiting the room. Ashara sighed happily to herself as she also left Alysanne’s room in the opposite direction from Jon. She walked alone for a moment before a sight in the window caught her attention. It was snowing. She hadn’t ever seen snow actually falling before and it seemed magical in a way, enough to stop her in her tracks. Winter was no laughing matter but there was a beauty in the sight, a majesty in the white flakes fluttering down to the ground that put her at peace.

There were still so many unresolved problems she would have to face at some point, but it was easy to ignore for now. Maybe it was selfish of her to ignore them, maybe it was selfish to not just go back to Essos to Connington and Aegon, but she had never had too much of a problem being seen as selfish, not for herself or her children at least. So Ashara smiled, realizing for the first time in a long time she was actually making a decision that was for her and her alone.


End file.
